


Ben's Burden of Guilt

by BettyHT



Category: Bonanza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 19:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16373432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BettyHT/pseuds/BettyHT
Summary: After hearing Hoss' reaction to an Easter sermon, Ben is consumed by thoughts of responsibility for past tragedies. It is when his sons finally return home from a trail drive that they are able to ease his burden and help him to let go of the weight of that guilt and find the source of their father's current turmoil.





	Ben's Burden of Guilt

Burden of Guilt

For hours, Ben Cartwright tossed and turned in his bed as Hoss' words echoed in his mind. "Now Easter shur does tell me that you kin try ta bury the truth, but it's gonna rise again." He had been at church with his sons for Easter services and Hoss had been commenting on the sermon, but the comment had taken Ben to a different and darker set of thoughts entirely. He had been seeing a woman, Margaret Becker, who had recently arrived in town and set up a restaurant. A very religious woman, her restaurant wasn't open on Sundays because she wouldn't work on the Sabbath. There were signs in her place that reminded patrons to use proper language. Her sense of decorum and decency appealed to Ben. He had befriended her and had eventually had asked her if he could escort her to church on a Sunday. She had agreed, and the following Sunday, she had consented to a ride with him after church. Things seemed to going quite well and then as had happened twice before in the past year, suddenly she was cool to him and refused his invitation to attend Easter services with him. When he pressed her about why she was no longer interested in his company, he got an answer that neither of the two other ladies had been willing to share.

"Mister Cartwright, it has been brought to my attention that you have had three wives and that all three died. There seems to be some concern about your role in their demises."

Shocked by her formal tone as well as what she had said, Ben had defended himself immediately. "Margaret, I had nothing to do with any of my wives' deaths."

With a look that conveyed disdain as much as moral outrage, she quietly put him down before stepping back as if to dismiss him. "Of course, you would say that. Every man sitting in the prison over in Carson City probably says the same thing. They never did anything wrong and have no idea why they are locked away. Very important people in this town say otherwise."

Shocked that she could believe something like that and that anyone would have told her such a story, Ben tried logic. "Honestly, do you think I could be here owning a ranch as I do and holding the positions I hold if I had murdered anyone?"

"From what I was told, you left Boston after your first wife died. The authorities could do nothing because you were gone. The second died on the way west where there was no formal government to do anything, and now here you are as powerful as the government so no one can touch you. In fact, your best friend is the sheriff. It seems you have escaped lawful prosecution." Then as if there was nothing more to say, she waited for him to leave almost as if she was afraid to turn her back on him.

Because it was so clear that she had made up her mind and didn't know him well enough for him to offer anything more in his defense, Ben had simply turned and walked away. Yet, her questions and comments had nagged at him. As Hoss had said, perhaps the truth was rising again, and even if he wasn't as directly responsible as she had been told, he wondered how responsible he was that three women were dead and his sons had been raised without mothers. The thought tore at his heart and nagged his mind especially at night. For weeks now, he had been unable to sleep well. With his sons away on a cattle drive, there was no one there to see his state. There was no one with whom to discuss these ideas. He hoped that by the time his sons returned, he would be able to come to some kind of resolution at least in his own mind, but if he found himself responsible, he had no idea what he could do about that. The more that he was alone and lonely, the more he built up a case against himself in each of his wives' deaths. It was a downward spiral. He stopped attending church services. He didn't eat much. With the trouble sleeping, melancholy was his nearly permanent state.

By the time his sons returned, they were shocked at his appearance. When they asked about him because of their concern, he snapped at them and told them nothing was wrong, but they knew better. Joe couldn't stay away from him. That first night, Joe knocked on his door at midnight. Ben was awake because he was almost always awake at midnight. He didn't want to answer that knock, but he couldn't add to his list of transgressions by making his youngest suffer so he called out softly for him to enter. He had been cross with Adam earlier when his oldest had pressed him about what was bothering him so. That was after Hoss had asked him if he was ill because he looked 'poorly' and he had snapped at his middle son as if he had no right to ask. Of course, that had made Adam all the more determined to find out what was wrong, and Ben had laid into him quite severely for his interference, his attitude, and a number of other equally unjustified attacks mainly to get him to stop probing. Adam had backed off but Ben knew he wasn't going to give up. He simply wouldn't press when there was nothing to be gained and his questions made his father that upset. However Joe had been unable to step in after that but had probably been suffering silently since then worried about his father. Ben couldn't bear to see the tears in his youngest son's eyes, and as expected, they were there when he turned up the lamp and asked Joe what he needed.

"Pa, I'm afraid for you. We got back, and you looked so terrible and you got so angry. What can we do, Pa? How can we help? What happened?"

"Oh, nothing happened, Joseph. It's simply an old man wrestling with the ghosts of his past, and the ghosts are winning right now."

"What ghosts, Pa?"

"The ghosts of guilt, I guess, would be the best way to describe them. I carry a lot of guilt for things that have happened, and it's come crashing down on me."

"What could you feel so guilty about, Pa?"

Ben didn't want to tell his son, but Joe was so earnest and had always been taught by his father that honesty was the best way to go in any situation. Without any good reason to do otherwise, Ben was caught on his own advice. He had to tell him. "Well, one major guilt I carry is for your mother's death."

"That was an accident, Pa. No one was responsible. Everybody who has ever told me about that said the horse stumbled and Mama fell badly. How could you blame yourself for that?"

Shaking his head, Ben admitted something he had never told his son before and felt guilty about that too. "It was my fault that she died that day. There's something I've never admitted to you or to Adam and Hoss. She asked me to go riding with her earlier that day. I was too busy like I was too busy many times. She never rode like that when I was with her. She wouldn't have ridden into the yard like that if I had been with her. The horse wouldn't have stumbled. She wouldn't have fallen. She would be alive, and you and Hoss too would have had a mother to help raise you."

"That's what's been bothering you so much?"

"That's part of it."

"Well, that part I can take care of." Looking into Joe's face, which was so full of good humor without any sign of recrimination or anger, Ben was surprised and to some extent, shocked. Joe did that little laugh he did when he realized he had done that to someone. He knew his usual behavior made people underestimate him. He could use that to his advantage many times. This time however, he simply needed to tell his father how he honestly felt.

"Pa, this isn't the first time I've had this conversation. I've talked this over with Adam before and we agree on something very important. My mother would have died that day or another day because she was even more impulsive than I am and she took crazy risks for no reason. She didn't have a father like you to pound some sense into her or older brothers to grab her by the collar and haul her back when she was being foolish. Adam has told me a lot about her and what she was like. Don't look so worried. He told me the good stuff too. I don't remember her that well, so just like Hoss, I depend on Adam for a better memory of my mother. If she didn't ride like a wild woman that day, she would have another day. Adam said she jumped fences in the pastures, rode horses that weren't suitable, and did all sorts of stunts. He told me about the arguments you two had about all of that and how she would laugh about the dangers as if nothing would ever happen to her. He told me that she had a fall before the one that killed her, and you had to shoot the horse because it had a broken leg, but she only hurt her arm."

Ben nodded because he remembered that day. He had run to the pasture when he had seen her go down only to be relieved when she stood cradling her arm. The horse though was thrashing about and couldn't be saved. He walked her to the house and put her in Hop Sing's and Adam's care before he went back to the pasture to shoot the horse. It had been a terrible moment for him then too, but she had not changed her habits even after that incident. He knew that Joe's words were true. Marie had been destined to die that way probably because she took risk after risk especially when riding. It seemed to be as necessary to her as eating and sleeping. It was perhaps amazing that she had lived as long as she had.

"Thank you, son. You've helped me a great deal. I think maybe I can even get some sleep now."

"All right, Pa. Maybe I can too, now."

After Joe left, Ben laid back in his bed and thought about that conversation and tried not to think about other things. It let him fall into a deeper sleep than he had had in weeks. The next morning at breakfast, it was clear that Joe must have gotten up earlier than usual and talked to his brothers because they were scheming. Instead of having the usual arrangements for work, the suggestion was that he should accompany Hoss into town that morning for supplies. Apparently Hop Sing was much too busy as was Joe who had to work with Adam it seemed who couldn't do whatever he was going to do unless he had Joe with him. With a deep sigh, Ben gave in to their manipulations. He knew they weren't going to give him any peace until he did. He had a rather good idea of what the conversation with Hoss would be and wasn't surprised. Hoss tried in as many ways as he knew how to bring up riding in wagons and hinted about his father and Adam taking that long trip west in a wagon and so forth waiting of course for his father to bring up the subject of Inger and the guilt that he must be carrying for her death. Ben didn't think there was going to be an answer that Hoss could give him that would satisfy the negative thoughts he had been having about taking his pregnant wife on a dangerous trip, but he knew he had to give him that chance.

"Well, Hoss, I'm sure Joe has been talking to you, so you might as well say what's on your mind because you probably know what's been troubling mine."

Caught off guard for a moment, Hoss struggled with his thoughts for a time until he was ready. Ben waited knowing that Hoss took more time to talk than his other two sons. Joe spoke the most rapidly saying whatever was on his mind. Adam thought about things more before speaking, but Hoss always wanted to be sure to say it the way he wanted and seemed to practice in his mind before letting any of those thoughts turn into actual spoken words. After a few minutes, he was ready.

"I can't rightly see how you think Ma dying was your fault. Adam's told me about McWhorter and how Ma wanted to get away from him and that town. He said she was so happy the day you all pulled on outta there heading west. He said she'd been disappointed you couldn't leave right away but had to wait for the next spring and then for the rains to stop so the rivers wouldn't be so swollen up. Seems to me it was her choice to go. Adam says my Ma weren't no shy woman 'bout getting her way when it was important to her."

"It seems to me that my eldest son has been doing a lot of talking."

"Pa, it's only 'cause we ask 'im. Adam knew our ma's in ways we never did. I ain't got no memory of mine at'all. Joe remembers his but only a bit. Adam kin tell us things about how they was like a ma to us. I know you kin tell us 'bout 'em too, but you talk 'bout 'em like they's all grow'ed up and all. That ain't how we see 'em. Adam sees 'em different than you do cause he was young then, and we like to see 'em the way he kin tell it." When Hoss explained it that way, Ben could understand that point of view. "You know every now and then, Adam will remember something he never remembered before and tell us. On this cattle drive, he remembered how he got accused of stealing some lady's pie and you was gonna punish him but Ma stepped in and questioned him. Said she stood up to you and said he don't lie. The ones who took the pie and said Adam done it was caught, and he said she never said nothing 'bout it, but that she had that look 'bout her that said she knew she was right."

"Oh, yes, your mother was very good with that look. She did too. She did say something though but not in front of Adam. She made me apologize to Adam for what I had said to him, not believing him. She never told me I had to do it, but she would ask me if I had talked to him yet, and when I said no, she had that look. She could say more with a look than any other woman I ever met."

"And how'd she look when you headed west?"

With a sideways look at Hoss, Ben shook his head and then turned to look at the road. He smiled then. "I don't know why you don't win at chess when I play you. You ran me into a trap just as neatly as your older brother does in that damn game." Pausing for emphasis and to make his son wait for his satisfaction, Ben finally had to give in. "All right. She was happy. She was grinning from ear-to-ear and she never stopped until we were in that terrible trouble that took her life."

"So she wanted to go, and being the kind of woman she was, she wouldna gone ifn she didn't want to go?"

"No, she wouldn't have gone unless she wanted to go."

"So, you ain't responsible for her dying. The man who got your group in trouble, and the Indians who decided to attack all of ya for the bad acts of one man are the ones responsible. Nothing you coulda done to change any of that."

"I suppose Adam will be talking with me next."

"Yeah, I think he will, but not until tonight. Me and Joe are gonna make ourselves scarce like. Adam said when the two of ya talk it could get complicated so he wants more time. I told him what I was gonna say, and he suggested the wagon ride to town. I figured that made sense too. Besides, I like going to town. I heard there's a new restaurant, and I'd like to try it out. Whaddya say to that?"

Hoss had thought that he was giving his father a perfect opportunity to see his latest lady friend until he saw the look on his father's face. He knew something was wrong then and quickly suggested something else.

"On the other hand, I ain't had one them big juicy steaks with all the fixin's like we usually get. Maybe we oughta do that this time and save the other restaurant for next time."

Appreciating the change in offer, Ben hastily agreed to the second one not sure if Hoss knew what had happened to his relationship with Margaret Becker or if he truly wanted a steak. It didn't matter too much though as the end result was for the best. He had worked things out with two sons and a load of guilt was lifting from his shoulders. He did worry though about Adam and what he thought about what had happened with his mother. Adam had no older brother to ease the way for him, so Ben carried some apprehension into the evening.

Through dinner, Joe and Hoss were animated, but Adam was quiet. That wasn't an unusual state of affairs but under these circumstances, it increased the nervous tension for Ben. He caught Adam's eye several times and didn't note anything unusual. It seemed more that Adam was being entertained by his brothers, which also was a usual state of affairs. After dinner though, it was unusual. Both Hoss and Joe claimed exhaustion and headed upstairs to read causing Adam to smile almost involuntarily. It seemed he was amused that his younger brothers couldn't come up with a better excuse than that. Once Adam and Ben were alone, Adam stood and poured two brandies handing one to his father before he returned to sit in the blue chair. He waited for his father to speak. Adam was good at that because Ben couldn't take the pressure and broke.

"You're putting the burden on me?"

"You're the one carrying it."

"Carrying it?"

"You're carrying a load of guilt with you. I seem to recall a number of times when I was doing the same that I heard a very wise man tell me what to do. He told me to put down the burden of the past because it only makes one weary. He told me to take the lessons and the love and let the rest go because I didn't need it. It was too much to carry. I have a tendency to carry too much guilt for things that happen. I want to be responsible for things that happen even when I couldn't have done anything to stop them. It causes a lot of unnecessary sadness and melancholy, which has to come out, and all too often becomes anger at myself or at others. Does this sound familiar?"

Draining the brandy, Ben leaned back and closed his eyes letting the warmth of the brandy warm his insides as the warmth of the fire warmed the outside. Adam's words touched him too, but there was more they needed to discuss. "You've become a very wise man. I do appreciate too what you've done for your brothers. I had no idea that you were still talking to them about their mothers. Hoss told me that you remembered the pie story recently and told them. I had forgotten that too until he told me. You have a remarkable memory, but you have no memory of your mother. Hoss told me that you have given him and Joe the memories of their mothers as mothers. He said I can only tell them about their mothers the way a man sees a woman, another adult. I'm sorry there's no one to tell you about your mother as a mother."

"In a way, there was. You see, when I was in Boston, Grandfather told me stories. He saw her as a girl, not a woman, because she was his daughter, his little girl. He told me about her playful side, her fun side. He told me the things she loved to do, how she sang and drew pictures, and how she loved to read stories. He told me how she loved to sit by the water and watch the clouds. No, I don't know her like a mother, but I know her more completely because he was there to tell me those stories of my mother when she was young."

"Did he still blame me for her death? He was upset for a long time even though he covered it well."

"He never blamed you, Pa. He blamed you for marrying her and taking her away from him. He was lonely as a father would be when a child leaves. But he never blamed you for her death."

"I guess I don't see the difference."

"He told me that he missed her terribly, but no more than he missed her when she walked out that door as your wife and he knew that she was no longer his dutiful daughter but a man's wife. He expected she was going to follow a dream and go west with you. That was what he had hoped to avoid. He had hoped she would marry someone who would stay in Boston so he would always have her close. But no, he told me that she knew well before I was born that she might not survive. She told him but didn't tell you. She knew that you would be devastated and wouldn't even be able to bear the news. Abel had a terrible time knowing it too, but he knew to be prepared. The doctors had told her that her heart rate was not good and they feared what could happen. She had been warned before she was ever with child. She told her father that. She never had told you. It was her choice. She wanted to take that chance."

Stunned into silence, Ben watched his eldest son and only had thoughts for him at that point. "Adam, how do you feel about that?"

"I've never been sure. Even now, I know I wouldn't be here if she hadn't made that choice, but in making that choice, she's gone. It's something that is difficult to reconcile, but it was her choice. I have to accept that."

"And difficult as it is to know, I have to accept that too. Why didn't you ever tell me this before?"

"I thought that you had come to terms with all of it and there was no need to stir this up. Something has happened though to make you terribly upset and morose. What's happened, Pa? Why has all of this come back to haunt you now?"

"I think I could use another brandy if we're going to talk about this more, and your brothers who are eavesdropping may as well come down the stairs so they can better hear what we're saying."

With a grin, Adam stood to pour the brandy and glanced up the stairs at his younger brothers who sheepishly descended the stairs with those guilty looks they did so well. They looked more like schoolboys caught in a prank than men. Even Ben got a small smile as he looked at them and then saw Adam grinning. Once they were all seated, Ben decided to start with the beginning as he saw it.

"It began on Easter when Hoss said 'Now Easter shur does tell me that you kin try ta bury the truth, but it's gonna rise again.' It hit hard." Hoss looked decidedly uncomfortable at that point.

"No, Hoss, don't feel bad. It was that you were talking about the sermon, and your words struck a chord with me because of something that had happened. Margaret Becker told me that she had heard stories of how my three wives had died, and it was insinuated that I might have had something to do with that."

All three sons looked surprised, but Joe was the only one to speak. "Pa, we've all heard that for years."

"You have?"

"Sure, I got teased with that in school. Some of those fights I had when I wouldn't tell you why were about that. Adam and Hoss helped me out with that."

When Ben's gaze turned to his two older sons, they looked a bit uncomfortable. Adam answered the unspoken question. "We only let some of the boys know that ganging up on Joe wasn't going to be tolerated. We never actually did anything to them. My talking and Hoss standing there was enough of a message."

Ben could picture that. Adam with his menacing voice that could be so intimidating even to adults and Hoss with his imposing presence could certainly have put some fear in schoolboys. "But the two of you heard the same story?"

"Shur, Pa, in the saloons, if somebody was trying to rile us or rattle Adam in a poker game or some such, they'd try that story out on us. Never worked on us. It only riled Joe when he was young before we all had a chance to talk it through and know the truth of it all."

"But you never said anything to me about any of it?"

"Pa, it was hurtful words meant to get us angry. As Hoss said, it didn't work and we haven't heard anyone talk like that in years." Looking around, Adam got agreement from his brothers. "So who do you think has brought it up now?"

There was silence in the room for several minutes as the four men thought about that. Hoss was the one who had a question that turned out to be the probable answer as well.

"Pa, is there anyone else interested in Margaret Becker? I mean, someone else who wanted to call on her?"

After a short discussion, all four men headed up to bed. Ben didn't sleep much again but for an entirely different reason. In the morning, he ate a light breakfast and headed out to the stable to head to town. His sons marched right behind him.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Pa, you don't think we'd miss this, do you?"

Adam spoke for his brothers, but Ben could see there was no way that he was going to be able to change their minds. "All right, but this is my fight. You can watch, but you will not interfere." They all agreed, and within a short time, the family Cartwright was headed to town. It took a short time for Ben to find his target and not surprisingly at Margaret's restaurant. He asked him to step outside as they had some business to discuss.

"Ben, I don't know that we have any business to discuss. I was having a very pleasant conversation with Margaret that you have rudely interrupted however."

"Barney, you will step outside or I will drag you out there."

The way Ben was standing there left no doubt in Barney Fuller's mind that Ben would do just that. He decided that perhaps the best way to get out of this predicament might be the truth.

"Now, Ben, you know that all's fair in love and war, don't you?"

"No, Barney, I don't. There are some lines that gentlemen don't cross, but apparently you do."

Suddenly becoming quite suspicious, Margaret had her own question. "Barney, what does he mean by this?"

"I think that perhaps I will let Ben explain if he wishes to stay. I'll take my leave if that's all right with him. Right, Ben?"

"Go ahead, leave. I have no desire to sit in jail for disorderly conduct because of you. Go!"

The last was barked with that commanding voice that could send twenty men scrambling for cover. It made Barney leave in a hurry to the amusement of Ben's sons who waited outside and watched him scurry down the street. They took seats outside the restaurant then and told any would be customers that there were no available seats inside and to come back in an hour. By the end of the hour, they greeted their father who left the restaurant with a smile. After some good natured badgering, he told them that he was escorting Margaret to church services on Sunday and they would be taking a ride after services to be able to talk. That got a few snickers from Joe earning a stern look from their father, but behind his back, Adam and Hoss exchanged knowing smirks.

"I know those looks you two have back there. Don't think I can't guess what you're doing. Now, enough about me. Tell me more about the cattle drive. I want to hear about everything that happened."

Ben didn't mention that he didn't think the relationship with Margaret would last. He didn't think they needed to know that. She was pleasant enough company and he had needed to prove a point, but her willingness to believe the worst about him without giving him a chance to explain had exposed a weakness in her character that would pose a problem for him accepting her in a long-term relationship. Meanwhile, she was company for a lonely man and he had beaten Barney at his game, he had his sons, and he had his reputation intact once more. He felt good.


End file.
